


There Are Days To Plant Seeds

by Oonagh_Melschoi



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Family, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2019-11-18 15:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18122705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oonagh_Melschoi/pseuds/Oonagh_Melschoi
Summary: The full story of Hirako Shinji, from the day of his death to the reinstallment as captain of the fifth division, and everything in between!





	1. Death

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my story about Hirako Shinji! This piece was "teased" on Tumblr, where people were keen to the idea of having some more content about Shinji, so, here we are! The description of the story, tags and ships might change as the story progresses, because, well, that's kinda what storied do right? ^^' 
> 
> Without further comment, let's go!

**How I wish there was a heaven**

**All for one and one for all**

**A flawless soul society**

**Our lives are just a fragment**

**Of the universe and all**

**There may be more than we can see**

**_Kamelot - Soul Society_ **

* * *

 

It was quite a weird thing looking down to your chest and seeing a chain coming out of it. Not as weird and unnerving as seeing you own body, bloody and torn apart in the ground in front of you, but weird enough.

He carefully touched the chain, half expecting to feel something from the light touch, but he only felt the coldness of the metal. With a sigh, he ripped his helmet off, letting his blonde hair hang down his shoulders.

He didn’t remember dying, but he was not an idiot, he knew he was dead. He could feel the spear impaling his back still. What other explanation could he have for what happened? He heard the horses and the screams and he ran. Not fast enough, clearly, but ran anyway. Not very honorable either, but who was going to blame him now? This was a secret he had taken to the grave. He chuckled at the idea. In the distance, he could see the horses leave the village, spreading chaos and fire as they went.

Slowly, he started to walk away from his body. What use did he had for it now, anyways? No use crying over spilled milk, he thought, or wasted lives on the ground. He saw his fellow soldiers, slowly raising from the ground, their own bodies left behind bleeding, identical chains on their own chests. He waved to them and they came closer to him.

“What in the world is goin’ on?” asked the older one, he didn’t remember his name.

“Idiot. We lost the battle. We’re done for.”

“That’s all you can say? We’re done for?!”

He pointed behind him, to his body.

“What do you call that, if not done?” he snarked “We done. We fought and we died, and now… I don’t know, we wait I guess. We become ghosts or demons, or whatever happens after death. I never paid attention to whatever the fuck the monks said about the after.”

He was not in the mood for philosophical talk, so he kept walking, avoiding the bodies in the floor, avoiding the blood.

“But… Shinji!” he heard his name, but he ignored it.

“What do spirits do for fun?” he wondered aloud.

It was true that he never paid attention to whatever the monks said about the afterlife, but of course he had heard the old tales of ghosts women that ate men in the mountains or the ghosts that hunted old houses, trying to trap anyone stupid enough to come close to eat them.

He was not into the idea of eating people, tho.

In the distance, he saw a samurai with a sheathed sword on his side. The face didn’t ring a bell for him, so Shinji assumed he was a member of the enemy army, left behind to end whomever was left alive.

He was a weird guy, tho. Unlike Shinji, he wasn’t wearing any armor, or protection, only dressed with a plain black robe and straw rope sandals. And he walked without a fear or a care in the world, not unlike Shinji himself, before the men of Toyotomi clan came to his village and politely asked all the men capable of raising a sword to join them for the war.

He knew he was going to die, he and all the other guys he grew up with. The idiots thought they had a chance, but Shinji knew better: they were young farmers from an Osaka village, what chance did they have? He wished he could tell them ‘I fucking told you so’, but he assumed the chance would be slim of ever seeing anyone from his village again.

To add to the list of weird stuff happening today, the black-robed guy was looking at him. He squinted his eyes. Was he looking at him? He looked over his shoulder, but other than burning houses and dead bodies, there was nothing of interest on his back. He turned again and watched as the guy came closer, a smile on his face.

“Good day” he said.

If he wasn’t already dead, Shinji was sure he could have died on the spot.

“You can see me! You dead too?”

The guy laughed. “Yes, I guess I am. What a number the did on you guys uh?” he remarked while watching around “You guys never stood a chance, sorry to say”.

Shinji just stared at him, silently processing the whole thing again.

Battle. Dead. Everyone dead. Dead guy with sword.

_Dead guy with sword._

“Are you a Tokugawa?” asked Shinji.

The guy just laughed. “Maybe in my past life, which I don’t really remember. No, I’m a shinigami. I’ve been assigned to this village for, well, death duty and Hollow watch. What a mess! I was expecting casualties, but this is too much just for one person. I reported to my superiors and I’m waiting for reinforcements, but they’re taking their sweet fucking time. Excuse my language.”

“Don’t worry” said Shinji with a plain face.

“Anyway, shinigami. Me. I’d explaing further, but I seriously don’t have time. If you could kindly head that way” the shinigami pointed to the direction he came from, to the exit of the village “and wait with the other pluses until I have gathered everyone and start sending you guys to Soul Society, I’d be very grateful. I’ve already done a few rounds, to pick the last of you guys. You must have had a slow death, sorry to tell you.” he said with a sad expression.

“If it makes you feel better, I remember nothing” Shinji smirked. A small lie. He remember the spear.

“Good!” the shinigami clapped. “That will make the transition easier for you.”

“You said you were sending us to… Soul…?”

“Soul Society. Where all good souls go.”

“And the bad ones?” Shinji asked slowly.

The shinigami paused for a second.

“You don’t worry about it. The ones going to hell won’t be the poor souls killed today. You will go to Soul Society, with your fellow soldiers, and move on, like everyone does.”

Shinji looked at the shinigami in front of him for a second.

He was shorter than him by a few inches, black hair tied on a loose ponytail. His smile lighted up his face.

“What’s your name, shinigami?” he asked.

The guy let out a small laugh, like a bark and said “Fujio Shido.”

Shinji bowed his head lightly and wave his hand, walking on the direction Fujio had indicated.

He had walked no longer than ten minutes when he saw a multitude of his comrades, all with chains hanging from their chests.

“I guess we are all really dead” a voice said behind him.

Older-guy-I-still-don’t-remember-his-name had followed him to the outside of the village.

“Yes, I guess we are” said Shinji with a sigh.

The old man joined the other soldiers, but Shinji stayed behind, watching them, not really hearing their chatter.

His mind went back to his small village, to his mother, alone in their family farm. Will she ever know he was dead? Will he ever saw her again? He had been young, hardly turned eighteen springs before this. What would his mother do alone? After his father’s death, he became the man of the house, yet had no time to create a family of his own before the war. Would he see his father in wherever this Soul Society was?

What would happen to him now?

He sat down on the dirt, awaiting for his fate.

* * *

 

He didn’t know how much time had passed, when the soldiers became restless.

Shinji couldn’t see what was making them jumpy, but the screams reached his ears. Fast as his armor allowed him, he stood up and waited. Slowly, the soldiers calmed down. On the tips of his feet, Shinji peered over the heads of the dead souls. Fujio had come back and was talking to the souls. Other shinigamis in black robes were waiting on his side, calm expressions on their faces.

“Please, form a line in front of us and we will go ahead to do the Soul Burial for all of you! Don’t be scared!” he said loudly when the men because restless again “The Soul Burial is painless and will send you to your next destination in Soul Society.”

“What if we don’t want to leave?” screamed a man in the front rows.

“You can choose to refuse the Burial, but I really don’t recomend you to” said one of the shinigamis, a young woman with long blonde hair.

“Why not?” asked another man.

“You will become a monster if you do, and you will hurt people. I know this is a traumatic experience for you, but moving on is the natural path for souls” explained Fujio patiently.

The men murmured between them and Shinji sighed.

“I’ll go first!” he said loudly. A sea of faces turned to look at him, astonished.

“What? Someone gotta go first right? Might as well get this shit done already, what else are we going to do, anyway?” Fujio smiled at him kindly as Shinji walked to the front.

“You sure this won’t hurt?” he joked.

“I swear on my wife back in Soul Society” said Fujio.

“Oh, souls get married?” Fujio laughed.

“Some souls even are born there! This is not the end” he said loudly, to make sure everyone heard him. “Soul Society is just a new life for all of you! You will never wield a sword if you don’t want to! You will never again suffer hunger and age will come slowly to you! Don’t be afraid!”

The men started whispering to each other while Fujio unsheathed his sword.

“I thought you said this wouldn’t hurt” Shinji chuckled nervously.

“Deep breaths, Shinji.” said Fujio with a smile.

The shinigami turned the handle of this sword around and pointed it to Shinji. The blonde swallowed and closed his eyes. He felt the bottom of the handle touch his head and he opened his eyes. The last thing he saw was the smile of Fujio, while the world around him disappeared in a windwhirl of light.


	2. ...the hell you mean there’s bureaucracy in heaven?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinji finally arrives to Soul Society and finds his new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two here we go! 
> 
> Also, I created a tumblr for this story http://therearedaystoplantseedsfic.tumblr.com/, where you can find the music I used while writing, some drawings and other stuff about the story :) Anons are on, if you don't have an account but want to say hello! 
> 
> Shout out to all the people that read, left kudos and commented on the story!

**Let us die young or let us live forever**

**We don't have the power, but we never say never**

**Sitting in a sandpit, life is a short trip**

**The music's for the sad man**

_**Alphaville - Forever Young** _

* * *

 

In the blink of an eye, Shinji’s surroundings were banished, and he found himself in front of a small, wood building. Right behind the small hut, a wall stood. He saw no doors along the bricks.

He looked around and saw a few lines of people, waiting to enter the building. They looked bored and tired, none of them had chains down their chests. He looked down and saw his own chain was gone, too. And so were his old clothes and armor. Instead, he wore a simple blue yukata, tied to the waist with a simple white obi. He wondered were his old clothes had gone. His hair, reaching his shoulders, moved with the soft breeze. Tall grass reached his knees, softly waving.

Shinji was unsure what to do. Clearly, Fujio, the shinigami, knew what he was doing when he sent him away in that strange ritual, but he was not sure if he should go into the line or just go away and find his own path in this new place.

He must have looked pretty lost, looking around, because an old man in line started moving his hands, signing him to come closer.

The old man was dressed in a simple gray yukata, like Shinji, and had a cane next to him. His bald head shined in the sunlight.

“Are you new?” he asked Shinji.

“Just arrived ‘ere. Where the hell are we?” asked Shinji.

“The Office of Souls Sorting.” answered the old man, tapping the cane to the ground, “New souls arrive here and then are given a new destination in the Wondering Souls City.” the old man pointed the cane to the horizon and Shinji saw, for the first time, the Rokungai.

The buildings were small and built close together, maxing on the space available in the streets. Some had two stores, some were little less than a wood box. The style was different from the style used in Shinji’s old village, inspired by the architecture of Osaka. The Rukongai looked more elegant, better built. Shinji squinted his eyes and saw some people, going around on their business. Some kids were playing with a ball, they seemed to have fun.

“You arrive here, make the line and wait for your ticket.” continued explaining the old man while Shinji looked away, “And then, you move to your new district.”

“Districts?” asked Shinji looking back at the old man.

“Aye, son. The city is divided in eighty districts, one south, one north, one east and one west. If you are lucky, you get one of the districts closer to the Shinigami City, the Seireitei.” the old man pointed behind Shinji with his head. Shinji turned and studied the wall again, it was the biggest wall he ever saw. That was the shinigami place?, “And if God hates you, you go to the bad districts, sixty and beyond.”

Shinji just looked at him.

“And why not simply just go and find your own place?” Shinji asked the old man.

“Paperwork.” laughed the man, “The shinigamis like to think they can control want happens beyond their walls. So they try to look useful. Or, so I’ve been told, I’ve been here for a day, so all I know it’s just what the people here say.”

Shinji blinked, “…the hell you mean there’s bureaucracy in heaven?!”

The old man laughed.

“You look young, died in battle?” asked the old man.

“Yeah, we have quite the party down there, grandpa” said Shinji, “I have to wait here for a day?! The shinigami that sent me here said nothing about this waiting or districts!”

The man mumbled something that sounded like “impatience” and “youth”.

“Young man, go to the end of the line and wait for your turn. The sooner the better. Nobody can stay here, waiting forever.” and with that, the old man closed his eyes and turn his head, waiting for the line to move.

Shinji stared at him for a few more seconds before sighing and moving, following the line backwards, looking for the end.

There were other lines, separated by a few meters, all full of completely different people. From children to babies, to people that looked his age and old people. As he walked away from the old man, the counted (badly) the people he saw and lost the count at sixty-seven. The lines seemed endless as he walked and walked. When he finally reached the end of the line, he simply stood behind the last person and waited in silence.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Apparently the afterlife was a lot about waiting, he thought bitterly.

As the time passed more and more people joined him in the line. The woman right behind him was crying when she arrived and didn’t stop, even after Shinji tried to speak to her. She turned, looked away and kept weeping. Shinji wondered what had happened to her, and how terrible it would have been. Maybe she was just sad about dying. Shinji still remembered what had happened back in the human world, maybe she did too. Heaven was not as perfect as Fujio had said, apparently.

Slowly, the line moved forward as the souls were sent to their new homes in the spirit world. The sun set and the moon rose, the stars bright in the sky, while Shinji waited, and the moon was already lowering when he saw the office again. As the sky lighted, he reached the door of the hut. His feet and legs hurt from standing all the night, and he was kinda pissed off.

He wanted this goddamn ticket thing done and over, for fuck’s sake.

“Next!” screamed a voice inside the office.

“Fucking finally” muttered Shinji, entering the building.

“Table number five, please!” a shinigami, sitting behind a desk, called him, waving her hand. Shinji crossed the room to the table,

“Please sit down!” said the shinigami with a cheerful voice, “Name, please?” she asked, taking a form from a drawer.

“Hirako Shinji.”

“Japanese then?” asked her.

“Where from, if not Japan?”

“This is the East Branch of the Soul Society, we get people from all over Asia, you know, China, Korea, Philippines… So, Japan?” she asked again.

“Yes”

“Place of birth?”

Shinji doubted, not sure what to say.

“I don’t think my village was important enough to get a name, to be honest.”

“Closest town?”

“Osaka”

“I heard the accent, but didn’t want to assume.” said the shinigami. Shinji rolled his eyes, “Age?”

Shinji just stared at her.

“Let’s just say between twenty and twenty-five, yes?” she said, filling the form, “Cause of death?”

“Being stupid enough to think I could out run a soldier with a spear and a horse” Shinji said boredly.

The shinigami simply nodded.

“Family?”

“Here or there?”

“Here and there” the shinigami smiled.

“My father died three years ago. I guess he’ll be here somewhere. Back there, I have my mother and two sisters” Shinji said quietly. How would they survive without him now?

“Hirako-san, we tried to send families to the same districts, but it’s hard. We keep a record of all the souls that arrive to our branch, but, as you can imagine, we get thousands of souls daily so the task is lengthy and complicated.” she sighed, “What I’m trying to say it, we have thousands of Hirakos spread all over the Rukongai and the Seireitei, and most of them are not even related to you. The chances of finding your father are slim. And that’s if we don’t count that he might have passed away…”

“How can he pass away? He’s already dead!” exclaimed Shinji, perplexed.

“The soul cycle never stops, Hirako-san” said the shinigami vaguely. She stamped the form and put it in a packet. She opened another drawer and took an envelope out, “This is your new destination. Come on, open it!”

Shinji gulped and hooked his finger around the border of the envelope, slowly ripping it.

_‘District 65, west’_

“I’m sorry” said the shinigami in a low voice.

“Is it that bad?” asked Shinji with a smirk.

“You could have been sent to district eighty,” muttered her, “but it’s no district one or two. Leave the office through the door and walk left. You will see a path that leads to the far districts, from sixty to sixty-nine. It will take a few hours to arrive to you new home.”

“And my father?”

“I have no idea” shrugged the shinigami.

_‘Wow. Helpful.’_

“That’s all? You ain’t going to even try to find him?”

“Hirako-san, I have no time, and other souls are waiting. If you are really interested in finding your father here, you can apply for a document consultation on Squad 1, but they rarely accept those. Do you want the form?”

Shinji paused for a second. He didn’t know how to read or write, what good was a form for him? But less was nothing, so he nodded.

The shinigami handed him a paper. “Good luck with that.”

Shinji raised and gave her a toothy smile.

“See ya ‘round, beautiful”

The shinigami blushed.

“Have a nice life, Shinji.”

Shinji turned and walked over to the door, leaving the building. As the shinigami said, he walked left, leaving the building and lines behind. He walked for five minutes when he saw a pole with directions. He took the one with the ‘60-69’ mark and started to walk away. The path was upwards and soon enough he was sweating and puffing. After a while, he reached the top of the hill and felt his mouth drop open.

He could have never imagined that the city of souls was THAT big. As far as his eyes reached, there were houses and buildings. Some splashes of green here and there broke the brown and gray mass. The districts had circular shapes, like the waves of the water, after you dropped a stone in it.

Finding his father would be an impossible task without help.

He was alone, utterly alone.

And alone, he started walking again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Technically, souls don't remember their past in SS, but we know of souls that DO remember (and most people in Rukongai know when and where they die, and remember their families), so I assume you arrive there and remember and as the time passes you forget your past life. So unless you were born in SS, you have notions of who and what you were before you were a soul. 
> 
> 2\. From the Invasion of SS arc we also know shinigamis are not really welcome or useful for the habitats in the Rukongai, so I tried to make them as useless as I could in this chapter. Hence, their stupid ass method of sorting souls and their unwillingness to help souls find their families when they arrive. 
> 
> 3\. I headcanon Shinji as a bad district citizen, not too bad, but bad enough. So 65 it is :) BTW, nobody has sandals beyond district 59 :/ That's how well shinigamis' do their job.


	3. On the road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinji continues his path to his new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! Not dead! 
> 
> I know I was away for a month (I'm so sorry), but my job schedule was insane, I had time for nothing and yeah... But I'm back! With a new job, with better hours and actual time to do stuff! 
> 
> So we're back in business! Let's go!

**When tomorrow,**

**Tomorrow comes today**

**Gorillaz - Tomorrow Comes Today**

The wind brushed his hair back, softly, almost like a caress.

But he wasn’t in the mood for tenderness.

“THIS FUCKIN’ HELL NEVER ENDS OR FUCKIN’ WHAT?!”

Since he left the District Assignment Office, Shinji hadn’t stopped walking for what felt like days. Truly, only a few hours have passed, but the monotonous background and the road didn’t help. From time to time, he would find someone else on the road and they’d walk together for a few miles, until the other souls found the signs to their own districts and would leave for their new homes, leaving him to walk alone again.

And now, the light was slowly dying and the night chased his steps.

He made a stop and meditated about his options. Stay and make night or go on in the darkness? What if he lost his way? Would he end in a worse place that what was waiting for him?

He sighted and dropped down to a squat, tired. So far, the afterlife had not been too kind to him. He closed his eyes and let the breeze refresh him.

The sound of moving dirt made him open his eyes and turn slightly.

A hooded figure was coming closer.

Shinji rose and waited for the figure to approach him. Slowly but steady, the soul came closer and closer.

“Good day, young man”. A thick accent caressed Shinji’s ears. It sounded like home.

The soul pulled their hood down and Shinji bowed slightly to address the old woman in front of him.

“Good night, I’d say” said Shinji.

The woman laughed.

“Ah, yes. Quite late, ain’t that right? This road never ends”.

“Where you headin’?” asked Shinji.

“District 69” said the woman in a somber voice “I guess I won’t be stayin’ long ‘round here?”

With a sigh, the old woman sat down on the road, not caring about her cloak. After a moment, Shinji joined her. Might as well spend the night in company.

“What you mean you won’t be spendin’ too much time ‘round?” asked Shinji. Maybe he could move away too?

“The 69 is a bad place, boy,” said the lady “Too bad for an old hag like myself. I’ll die again and go back to the damned human place. Just left it and now I’m going back” she chuckled. “Start all over again, ain’t sound bad. I won’t miss bein’ old and achy”.

Shinji stayed quiet for a moment.

“Souls die?”

“Apparently. That’s what the useless idiot that sent me here said” the lady shrugged “I’m new too”.

Shinji thought about what the shinigami had said in the office and what the old lady was saying now. If souls really never stayed in one place, how could he find his father?

“Don’t think it too much” the old lady voice interrupted his train of thought “It ain’t worth it. You are here now, so make the most of it while you can. You never know what the future will bring. When I was a young girl I only thought about getting married and that I did, and Kikaku, he was a nightmare. It felt like a trap, and I couldn’t understand how I got myself in such a mess! And then one day, puff! He died. And I got everythin’, the farm, the lands, the animals, everything. And then I meet Takashi and he was heaven sent, boy. And he gave me two wonderful sons, before he left me. And I can tell ya, while I was with my first husband I couldn’t even dream of having such a good luck. Life’s a mess and then you die. You are young and look strong, ya’ll find your own way, don’t worry”.

For a whole minute, Shinji was speechless. The lady laughed.

“Ah, youth! You have all the time ahead of you, yet you get lost in the non important stuff! Were you married before you died?”

“Well, there was this girl from the village, she was cute…”

“So no widow, and no children?”

Shinji shook his head no.

“You’ll move on soon enough” said the woman with an air of solemnity.

Shinji looked to the sky. While they talked, the moon had risen and was shining brightly in the sky, giving the scenery an almost bucolic feeling. He thought of Chihiro for a second, the girl from his village. Her hair was beautiful, shiny and dark as a raven’s wing. And she had a spring in her step that made boys turn around to watch her. He smiled softly, remembering all the times he had teased her, joking about her red cheeks like apples. He hoped she was fine and happy, in her father’s farm, tending to her cows and chickens. He hoped she found someone she liked and got married and had babies. They were never anything serious, but he sometimes dreamt of what their kids would look like.

Next to him, the old lady stretched and lay down.

“Might as well have some sleep, boy. The Rukongai won’t get lost in one night”.

“Ain’t that true, lady” Shinji said with a smirk.

Imitating her, he lay down and stared at the sky, counting stars, until sleep came over him and he was lost to the dreamland, where dark haired kids with big mouths ran after a dog.

* * *

 

The sun hit his feet first and slowly reached his face, before he woke up. It took him a while to open his eyes, and just lay there for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth.

When he finally opened them and raised up to a sit, he found himself alone.

He cursed. He was hoping to make the rest of his trip walking with the old lady, but now he was alone again. His stomach growled. What a wonderful day he had woke up to.

‘No use on wastin’ time, eh?’ he thought.

He raised to his feet and started walking again. Like the day before, the road went on and on and on and on. The sun continued his path in the sky, rising higher and higher. And Shinji walked and walked for hours.

And finally, he saw the sign.

“District 65”

A secondary road left the main path, going down to the Rukongai. The houses were far away, but they looked old and dirty. For a second he was discouraged, but then the words of the old lady came back to him.

He smirked.

He was Shinji Hirako and he was young and had nothing to tie him up.

He would find his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to add a little something about Shinji's past. My idea is to keep adding little details here and there while he continues his journey to become the Shinji we love and enjoy.  
> So, tell me what you thought of the chapter! My pseudo bf is ignoring me and I need validation ^^'

**Author's Note:**

> Looking for battles or similar things to set this chapter, I came across the Siege of Osaka, and particularly The Battle of Imafuku. Since Shinji speaks in Osaka-ben, and the Siege happened, more or less, 400 hundred years ago, I think it fits perfectly with him to have died on the middle of a battle.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this firts chapter, don't forget to review! THANK YOU <3


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